


Years Go By

by Townycod13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:56:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The older you get, the more things change. The longer it's been, the more things stay the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Years Go By

A few years does more than he really thought possible.

It could have been the new atmosphere, the people, the expectations, hell it could have just been the genuine desire to change, but in the same way that one never truly changes, everyone grows up.

He supposes that’s exactly what happened in those long but incredibly short years. He grew up. He went to college, he went to _grad school_ , and now he was starting his own practice back in his home town.

It’s not at all that he hasn’t visited since he started college, or even that he hasn’t hung around his old haunts with his friends, most of which have all gone their separate ways in every direction, but there was something about coming home and looking at it all through the eyes of an _adult_.

He would be lying if he said college hadn’t left him preoccupied, specifically the last two years of grad school, giving him just enough time to go to work, school, and attempt to sleep, so his visits dwindled in the last few years. His contact with friends happened more via skype and phone than anything else, and his visits home fairly strictly family based.

He didn’t think he’d come back to town an adult. He didn’t think he would have changed at all (like the calm demeanor he managed to develop for work), he didn’t think he’d have a brand spanking new perspective on just _everything_ (like how he realizes, oh my god, we were just children, how did we even live through it all?).

He always knew he’d come back though. He rather liked living in a town where his father was the sheriff. He rather liked being so close to home, _family_.

He’d always known he couldn’t, wouldn’t, _didn’t want to_ leave his father alone. Even if he annoyed his father more than he _ever_ helped, he just wanted to be _there_.

So he’d _jumped_ at the opportunity to work at the school he’d attended when his life changed. He figured with his snazzy new doctorate he could probably get a better job, but as he was amidst starting his own small practice he figured he could always build up his resume and patience by working with high schoolers.

There was something about looking at the home that he hadn’t lived in since he was eighteen, as an ‘adult’, with ‘adult’ responsibilities, with his own apartment, with the truck _he_ rented to carry his furniture, his personal possessions… it really all drove home that he was a ‘big boy’ now.

Perhaps it had something to do with the last time he was living here he still received a freakin’ allowance.

Regardless of whatever nostalgic freak out he was currently going through, Stiles shrugged his shoulders and began the fun journey of bringing all his belongings up to the third floor, wishing dearly he’d taken his father up on the offer to take time of work to help out.

Moving was essentially a two person job no matter how you spun it.

It only took the third load of _the crap Stiles was now_ **seriously** _considering throwing out rather than carry all the way to his fucking apartment alone_ that Stiles flopped down by the moving truck and flipped out his phone, searching for a name that could potentially help out.

The only people who he knew that even had a chance of being in town to help him were obviously his high school friends, who were either a little bit unavailable or wouldn’t give a fuck.

Lydia, while they had grown significantly closer over the years, a bromance that sometimes rivaled the one he maintained with Scott developing through everything, probably would give a damn to help him out even if she was in town. Knowing her, bless her dark decrepit soul, she’d sit delicately in corner and comment dryly at him. Fortunately or unfortunately for Stiles, Lydia had decided to invest her residence on the east coast and was not currently available for pestering.

Stiles still claims that this is all just a part of his now twenty year Lydia Martin plan.

Jackson, oh Stiles was _not_ barking up _that_ tree, they had never been close. Probably never would be, and while they still did see each other from time to time, same group of friends, and there was _definitely_ less animosity between them, there was _no freakin’ way in hell_ Stiles was going to call him for help. Also, he had absolutely no idea where or what Jackson was currently doing with his life.

Stiles was damn sure he didn’t want to know either.

Scott, oh _how_ Stiles would just _love_ to impress upon his _best friend_ the joys of helping someone move, it would bring him _such_ joy. But sadly, the happily wed freak (of fucking course Scott would marry his high school sweetheart) was currently nursing his new born living in up in Southern California. And while Stiles had limited reservation forcing the house husband to drive up to help him out, he was pretty sure that Allison would shoot him for dragging Scott away from his extremely important duties like cooking and being ridiculously star struck over the baby.

Stiles was pretty positive that Allison would also not take well to being called at work to hear Stiles make some ridiculous request.

Danny, oh how Stiles would _love_ to bother Danny, if for no other reason other than it was fun to make extreme requests of Danny and then somehow manage to blackmail, bribe, or ‘convince’ him into doing it. The tragic part of the story is that Stiles never did have Danny’s contact information and hasn’t really seen the dude in a few years.

Stiles was sane enough to realize it was just a bit weird to call up someone you sort of knew, and heavily manipulated, in high school randomly after years of no contact with a crazy request.

Erica was out. Nope. Not going there. If Stiles is anyone he is a man that holds a grudge, and his poor jeep never worked quite the same after she mutilated it. Also, they’d rarely hung out independently outside of a group setting, so it would be awkward. But really it was because he happened to know that Erica was currently working two jobs in LA while attempting to find he place in the universe. She didn’t have the money for gas or the time of day to drive all the way back to Beacon Hills.

Secretly, Stiles was hoping she’d look into acting, if for no other reason than he thought she’d love it.

Boyd, now _that_ was a guy that Stiles missed bossing around, not that much bossing around ever happened, but Stiles had tried, valiantly, to get the upper hand in their strange friendship before Boyd went all terrifying werewolf and the status quota changed to… didn’t actually change, now that Stiles actually thinks about it he probably should have spent less time smart mouthing people that could easily, and in some cases happily, tear out his throat. Boyd was out though; he was still doing the college thing a few towns over. Not everyone got out of that misery as quickly as Stiles. Four years his ass…

Boyd would probably also want bribery and Stiles was still working on what he actually had to offer the guy other than free pizza. Stiles kept the idea of calling Boyd in mind though, thus far he was his best bet.

Isaac! Stiles grinned, Isaac was just perfect. Last he checked the guy was still living in Beacon Hills and everything! Worked for Deaton at that creepy ass vetinary office (Stiles had never looked at the place the same after the whole almost-amputation incident) and was _usually_ somewhat pliant to Stiles requests. Stiles grinned, while Isaac would always have the advantage physically, Stiles was damn sure he could outsmart the guy into working for pizza just fine.

Stiles marked Isaac down as a definite phone call to make and moved further down his contacts.

Stiles paused.

Derek Hale, also known as ‘WolfyMcAngryJaws’ in Stiles contacts was a big question mark. They’d seen each other over the years, mostly through group events, sure, but Stiles wasn’t even sure where the guy lived, he was damn positive it wasn’t still Beacon Hills given Derek had only really come because of family issues and never seemed to like staying in the house _his family was burned to death in_ much, also he’d never heard anything about the place being renovated so he assumed it was still a husk.

It struck him that he had no idea where Derek had been for almost a decade before Beacon Hills called him back, it was probably where Derek went back to now that he had no reason to stay in town. Come to think of it… Stiles wasn’t sure whether to find this hilarious or horrifying, but he was pretty sure that he was now around the same age Derek was when he came back to town.

Shaking off the thought, and deciding to perhaps investigate the Derek matter at a later time, Stiles went about calling Isaac and arguing the merits of helping an old friend.

Isaac’s derisive snort was enough for Stiles to begrudgingly acknowledge that he may have to invest more than one pizza into this venture.


End file.
